Slowly slipping back to that place of suicidal solemnity

in which my skies are shrouded by darkness

it is silencing me with loneliness

and stifling me with sorrow

Stretching my limbs at imaginary stationery

rapidly inheriting senselessness

swimming in my thoughts again

© Shanese Whyte


This poem was originally published in The Sunday Gleaner on April 15, 2012. It now features in the anthology, Unleashedby the CTU Publishing Group.

1 Comment

  1. Pingback: Why Don’t My Inner Voices Like Me? – ExpressMe!

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